The ongoing film festival in Kashmir is a welcome development and, in many ways, a moment of cultural significance. For a region that has witnessed long periods of disruption in its artistic and cinematic life, the return of cinema to the Valley in such an organised and visible form carries a meaning that goes beyond the screening of films. It brings artists together, opens windows to different cultures and gives Kashmir an opportunity to reconnect with the wider world through the universal language of cinema.
But precisely because the festival is being held in Kashmir, one question cannot be ignored: where, in this celebration, is Kashmir’s own creative community?
This is not a question against artists or filmmakers who have come from outside the Valley. Their presence is welcome. A truly meaningful film festival must be open to the world, and Kashmir should certainly become a destination for filmmakers, actors, critics and cinema enthusiasts from across India and beyond. The concern is different. It is about whether the local artistic community is receiving the visibility, recognition and space that it deserves.
A festival held in Kashmir should not merely be an international festival located in Kashmir. It should also, in some meaningful measure, become a festival of Kashmir.
That distinction is important.
Kashmir has a long and often insufficiently acknowledged artistic tradition. Its contribution to theatre, television, music and cinema did not begin with the arrival of contemporary film festivals. There was a time when Kashmiri theatre and television had a remarkable relationship with their audience. Actors, directors, writers, musicians and technicians created a body of work that reflected the Valley’s language, humour, social realities, traditions and collective sensibilities.
Many of those artists worked without the resources or visibility available to the larger film industry outside Kashmir. Yet they continued to create. Their work became part of the cultural memory of generations.
The years of turmoil severely affected this creative ecosystem. Cinema halls fell silent, cultural institutions struggled, and opportunities for artists diminished. An entire generation grew up without experiencing the vibrant cinematic and theatrical culture that had once existed in the Valley.
That is why the revival of cinema in Kashmir should ideally be accompanied by a revival of recognition for those who sustained its artistic traditions.
A festival offers the perfect opportunity for this.
Imagine a dedicated retrospective celebrating the history of Kashmiri cinema and television. Imagine veteran actors and directors being invited to share their journeys with younger filmmakers. Imagine screenings of important Kashmiri productions, discussions on the evolution of Kashmiri theatre, sessions on the role of radio and television in preserving the Kashmiri language, and conversations about the challenges faced by local filmmakers.
Imagine young Kashmiri filmmakers being given the opportunity to present their work before national and international audiences.
Such initiatives would not diminish the international character of the festival. On the contrary, they would give it a distinctive identity.
The world does not come to Kashmir merely to see another film festival. It comes to a place with a unique cultural history, a landscape that has inspired generations of artists and a society with stories that have rarely been given adequate space on the larger cinematic canvas.
Kashmir must therefore be more than a backdrop.
It must become a voice.
There is another dimension to this question that deserves attention. Cultural recognition is not merely about honouring the past; it is also about shaping the aspirations of the future.
A young Kashmiri who wants to become a filmmaker should be able to look at a major festival in the Valley and see people from his or her own cultural environment occupying meaningful spaces on its stage. A young actor should know that talent from Kashmir can receive recognition without first having to migrate elsewhere and establish itself. A local writer should feel that stories emerging from the Valley have a legitimate place in the national and international cinematic conversation.
Otherwise, there is a danger of creating an unfortunate psychological impression: that recognition comes from outside and that local achievement becomes important only after it has been validated elsewhere.
That is not the message a cultural festival should send.
At the same time, it would be unfair to suggest that every artist from Kashmir must automatically receive prominence merely because the festival is being held here. Recognition must ultimately be based on merit. But merit and opportunity must be allowed to meet. Local artists need platforms where their work can be seen, discussed and evaluated on its own strength.
The issue, therefore, is not local versus non-local.
It is visibility versus invisibility.
It is about ensuring that the established names arriving from outside do not unintentionally eclipse those who have spent years contributing to Kashmir’s own artistic landscape.
Perhaps this is where the organisers and cultural institutions need to think differently. A successful festival should not only bring celebrated names to Kashmir; it should also discover and celebrate the names that Kashmir itself has produced.
There are veteran artists whose contributions deserve documentation. There are filmmakers whose experiences could provide invaluable lessons to younger generations. There are actors and directors whose work formed an important part of Kashmiri cultural life. There are young filmmakers today experimenting with new subjects, new technology and new cinematic languages.
All of them deserve a place in the larger conversation.
Kashmir’s cultural revival cannot be built entirely through imported visibility. It has to be built by strengthening the confidence of its own creative community.
This is particularly important because cinema can do something that political discourse often cannot. It can allow people to encounter one another through stories rather than arguments. It can preserve memory without turning it into confrontation. It can bring different generations together. It can allow a society to look at itself honestly while also allowing the outside world to see it beyond stereotypes.
For Kashmir, cinema can therefore become not simply an industry but a form of cultural dialogue.
And if that dialogue is to be meaningful, Kashmiris must be allowed to speak in their own artistic voices.
The international character of the festival should be preserved and encouraged. Let filmmakers from every part of India and the world come to Kashmir. Let audiences discover new cinema. Let Kashmir become an important destination on the cinematic map.
But alongside the visiting stars, filmmakers and dignitaries, let the local artists stand in the light as well.
Let their stories be screened.
Let their journeys be heard.
Let their contribution be documented.
Let their experience become part of the festival’s institutional memory.
A cultural festival should illuminate the place in which it is held, not merely use that place as its setting.
Kashmir has given cinema its landscapes for decades. It has given artists, writers, musicians and filmmakers who have enriched its cultural life. It has preserved traditions through difficult times and carried its stories from one generation to another.
Now that cinema is returning to the Valley in such a significant way, it is time for the Valley’s own creative voices to return to the centre of the frame.
The world should certainly see Kashmir through cinema. But Kashmir must also be given the opportunity to see itself through its own cinema.
That would make the festival not merely an event taking place in Kashmir, but a genuine celebration of Kashmir’s place in the world of art and cinema.
(The author is RK columnist and can be reached at:[email protected])
